Can't Call Line
by blueoleandar93
Summary: High school AU. Castiel is a theatre geek who wants the lead in the school play almost as much as he wants his best friend's kid brother! I'm a SPN fanfic virgin, so, yeah... This could very well crash and burn. ONE-SHOT!


**Hiya!**

**I know, I'm primarily a BTR writer, but I've been so into Supernatural lately that I couldn't stay away. I don't at all ship Sassy, but there was a Sassy writing competition that I entered and thought I would share it with my FF family as well. I didn't win, but I thought it was a half decent idea and perfectly okay to share here. I also know that I've been on hiatus for a month. Yeah...that happened.**

**Sorry if you're one of my BTR followers who think this is a new Jagan/Kenlos story.**

**Sorry if you're a hard core Sassy shipper whom I wronged by writing this.**

**I tried my best.**

**Sorry.**

**Bye.**

* * *

><p>Castiel is a theatre geek. He admits it openly. The stage is his home, the only place where he feels unlimited. Once he projects someone else's words, and dons someone else's clothing, he truly leaves Castiel Novak behind and becomes anyone he wants to be. When he's on the stage, he defeats bad guys, maintains his swagger, and wins the heart of his true love every time. When he steps off of it, however, life is a whole new ball game.<p>

A junior at Lawrence High School, Castiel treks through his final year of secondary education virtually unseen. Overshadowed by his popular and much more overt siblings, most of the school writes him off as "the _other_Novak". He's not as funny as Gabriel. He's not as tough as Uriel. He's not as sexual as Balth. And he's nowhere near as bright as Anna. No one cares about his personality, they just want to see him do something amazing, and so far he has disappointed everyone. Well, everyone except for his best friend Dean Winchester.

Sure, Dean's a delinquent and has walked the halls of Juvey more than most kids his age, but Castiel would be damned if he wasn't a good friend. He's really a nice person, honest! The thing is, he's guilty of a weak temper and poor judgment, and in front of the court of law that doesn't earn one many brownie points. Dean drives him to school, fends off the bullies, and goes to every one of his "geeky" plays while Castiel tutors him, keeps him out of trouble, and visits him in the Juvenile Detention Center when he can't. Although Castiel is a straight-laced, level-headed kid and Dean is… well, no walk in the park, the two get along better than either of them could have hoped.

Then there's Sam, Dean's basketball star brother. He's tall, muscular, intelligent, and polite. He's handsome, kind, clever, and popular. He's fucking perfect. Castiel rarely sees him except for the few times a month he plays Call of Duty over at Dean's place. Even then, Sam's ducking under the door frames with a laptop in his hand, running to hang out with his cooler, much better looking friends. How Castiel envies his perfection! Everyone at school fawns over him, the ladies love him, and, personally, so does he. He drools over the younger Winchester as if he were the newly risen Christ. It's quite embarrassing actually. Hell, if Dean knew, it would end him. So, for now, he was okay with just daydreaming. His eyes followed Sam as he ducked out of the house with a curt salute to the two of them.

"Cas! Come on, get your head out of your ass! You just stopped shooting!" Dean complained, jamming his thumb onto the pause button, "Dude, we're not playing Black Ops anymore! This is the big leagues! I will put us in Sudden Death mode. Do you really want me to do that?"

Castiel shook his head and blurred back into the present, "Uh… right, right. Call of Duty!"

"I know Sam has a bubble butt, Cas, but that's no excuse to zone out during Modern Warfare," Dean mocked, leaning across the couch to ruffle up Castiel's tousled black hair.

"I wasn't looking at his butt!" Castiel snapped, trying to ruffle Dean's much shorted hair in retort to Dean's previous ruffle.

"And I'm the Queen of England," Dean laughed and pushed his hand out of the way, singing "Cassy and Sammy sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

Castiel began to blush at Dean's puerile mocking tone, "Come on Dean…"

"First comes love!" he sang.

Castiel growled, "Dean, cut it out!"

"Then comes _marriage_!" Dean continued jovially.

"How old are you, Winchester?" Castiel shrieked, looking around in fear that Mr. Winchester was around close enough to hear his son's childish antics.

Dean finished, thrusting his arms out, "Then comes Cas with an adopted baby in the baby carriage!"

Castiel sighed, "Fuck you, Dean."

The raven haired boy rubbed his temples as Dean doubled over laughing at the thought of his brother and Castiel becoming a couple, "God, imagine that! He's at least a foot taller than you and three years younger!"

"Come on, Dean, let's just…get back to the game," Castiel replied weakly, holding up the game controller for emphasis.

"Only if you swear you weren't checking out my brother." Dean teased.

Castiel hissed, "Come on, he's a Freshman! That's gross."

Dean raised his eyebrows persistently, "I didn't hear a 'no'…"

"I mean, really, Dean. What do you think? He's fourteen!" Castiel continued, "That has to be against several laws of nature."

"Going on fifteen…" Dean smiled devilishly.

"Dean, drop it." Castiel ordered.

His friend began to grin, "Holy Lynard Skynard, you have a crush on my kid brother."

Castiel flushed red and turned on the couch to face away from Dean. Was it really that obvious? So what if Sam Winchester had hair that flowed like the rivers of ancient Babylon, eyes as green as a virgin forest, and the body of a wet dream gone rouge? He's his best friend's brother! He's a freshman! He's Sam Fucking Winchester! There was no way in any dimension Sam would even consider giving him the time of day, so Castiel should just do his best to forget about him and deal with the sleepless nights, torturous car rides, and the Adonis that showers just upstairs.

He won't even pretend he hadn't thought about what Dean would say about this. Dean was so protective over Sam that it was almost terrifying. Dean wouldn't even let Sam sit in the front seat of the Impala because he wanted to make sure that if they were in an accident, he would have the highest chance of survival. Which in turn explains why Castiel doesn't have to fight for shotgun… Either way, Dean will grill every girl Sam even looks at, and makes it known that he hates them until the two break up. Sam was his pride and joy, and he was dead set on keeping it that way. Like hell he would let a boy(nonetheless _Castiel)_ even think about his darling Sammy in any way that wasn't platonic at best. To make a short story shorter, Castiel was fucked.

Dean paused, "…shit. You're…you're serious?"

"Yes," Castiel admitted, "I'm sorry. I'll… I'll go if you want me to…"

"No! Cas, it's fine. Really," Dean replied from behind me, voice sounding more excited than need be, "Hell… you should go for it!"

Castiel turned anxiously, "…I should…? I thought you hated it whenever Sam would date someone."

"Yeah, I would hate it when he dated girls, because I knew he never liked any one of them," Dean explained.

"Oh, come on, Dean. If he dated them, then how on Earth could they not be into them?" Castiel argued, folding his arms. There was no way Dean could be egging him on to date his little brother. Sam was his whole life. Plus, it's a bro code! You don't date your best friend's siblings!

Dean sighed, "Tell anyone this and I'll kill you."

"Dean—"

"And you know that I'm not kidding because you remember how I almost beheaded that kid last year for stealing Sam's sandwich."

Castiel sighed, "I remember… fine. I won't tell."

"Cas, Sammy's gay," Dean revealed, looking me dead in the eyes, "He confided in me last year. If my dad finds out, he'll kill him, and I can't let that happen. I just want Sam to find a good, quality guy that I trust. And right about now, I don't trust anyone but you. I don't mind if you like Sam. Hell, I'll even put in a good word for you, eh? What do you say?"

Castiel smiled, "Okay."

* * *

><p>"Now that's how I'm gonna clear the table. Don't you ever talk that way to me. 'Pig,' 'Pollack,' 'disgusting,' 'vulgar,' 'greasy.' Those kind of words have been on your tongue and your sister's tongue just too much around here. What do you think you are? A pair of queens? Now just remember what Huey Long said - that every man's a king - <em>I'm<em> the King around here, and don't you forget it!" Castiel hissed, throwing his book down and folding his arms. As he looked from the stage with beaming lights shining in his face, he rolled his eyes in the direction of the audience that he couldn't see. Annie Lawson looked back at him from across the stage in fear and said nothing. Castiel raised his eyebrow at her trying to coax her on, but she just stared at him as if she was scared out of her wits.

"Okay! I've seen enough!" Mr. Samson replied from the first row of the empty auditorium, writing casually across the audition slips Castiel and Annie had previously handed to him, "Thank you."

Annie held her book to her chest and flipped her curly brown hair over her shoulder and nodded worriedly, "Th—thank you, Mr. Samson!"

Castiel headed off of the stage to follow her, stopping half way across the stage to pick up the script that he had thrown on the floor. He smiled to himself. All in all, he thought he did a good job in the audition. He was loud, persistent, and overly manly in his delivery. In short, he was Stanley Kowalski. The school was putting on a production of A Streetcar Named Desire and there were very few male leads. It was mainly Stanley Kowalski for the male lead and the sisters Blanche and Stella for the female ones. The rest were little parts, really. But! There are no small parts, just small actors! Besides, it was his Junior year, so Mr. Samson already knew what he was capable of. Castiel had played Biff Loman in _Death of a Salesman_, Tybalt in _Romeo and Juliet_, Captain Hook in _Peter Pan_, and last semester he had wooed the crowd as Nathan Detroit in _Guys and Dolls_. If he finally received the lead this year, he could actually go on to get leads in his senior year and hopefully get into Institute of the Arts. Then… Broadway. He had to admit, he dreamt big, but never really got that far.

"Ah… Novak!" Mr. Samson called.

Castiel looked up from the stage, "Yes?"

"Can… can you read with Lucy? Yeah, you know Lucy, right?" Mr. Samson asked as Lucy Harrison stood from the other side of the stage glancing at him as if she was no worse than the Pope. Castiel looked back at her as she approached center stage, "Yeah, I know Lucy."

Of course he knew Lucy. Everybody who was anybody in Theatre Council knew Lucy. She was the best actress in the entire building. And she knew it. No lead escaped her because every director would be foolish not to cast her there. She was flawless, scary, and brilliant at the same time. Castiel was afraid not to know her.

She swished up to him in her little pink and white polka dotted dress, long blonde hair flowing down her back. Lucy just knew she was the shit. Why? Because she _was_.

Mr. Samson replied, "Yeah, take any scene you want."

Lucy smiled at him and curtsied, clicking up to me in her mile high heels, "You've memorized the script, right?"

"Duh," I replied.

"Good," she grinned devilishly, with a wink, "I hope you can keep up."

Lucy smiled into her palm at something she had hidden in her pocket, instantly beginning to act, "Why, those were a tribute from an admirer of mine."

Castiel paused, "ah…what scene is that from…"

"I thought you memorized the script, Novak?" Lucy asked.

Castiel gathered his thoughts… a tribute… a tribute…

"It's fine, Novak. I wouldn't ask you to memorize the script, it's only an audition." Mr. Samson replied with a sigh, gathering his papers, "Everyone, I will post the cast list tomorrow beside the Cafeteria at 7am sharp. Remember that everyone is a winner, alright. This was a very good group and you all did well. If you don't get a part, there's always the fall production next year—"

"He must have had a lot of admiration." Castiel sighed.

Mr. Samson looked up at Castiel, "…excuse me?"

"He must have a lot of admiration…" Castiel laughed, rubbing his fingertips over his temples, "He _must_ have had a _lot_ of admiration. He must have had a lot of damned admiration!"

Mr. Samson paused, "I… I don't follow."

Castiel turned, leaving himself behind as he became Stanley Kowalski, taking the scene Lucy had started and replaying it out for her straight to her face. He scoffed and folded his arms at her, "He must have had a lot of admiration."

"Oh!" Lucy replied, gaining her composure and playing along, "Well, in my youth I excited some admiration. But look at me now! Would you think it possible that I was once considered to be attractive?"

Castiel huffed and rolled his eyes at her, "Your looks are okay."

"I was fishing for a compliment, Stanley," Lucy smiled, batting her eyes.

"Well, I don't go in for that stuff," he replied placidly, stepping a few paces away from her.

Lucy called him back, "Well, what stuff?"

"Compliments to women about their looks!" Castiel turned on his heels and replied with as much manly sass as he could, "I never met a dame yet that didn't know if she was good-looking or not without being told, and some of them give themselves credit for more than they've got. I once went out with a dame who told me, 'I'm the glamorous type,' she says, 'I am the glamorous type!' I say, 'So What?'"

Lucy bit her lip and looked Castiel up and down, "And what did she say then…?"

Castiel shrugged, "She didn't say nothing. That shut her up like a clam."

"Did it end the romance?"

"It ended the conversation!" Castiel remarked with a quick chuckle, "That was all. You know that some men are taken in by all this Hollywood glamour and some just… aren't."

"Well, I—" Lucy looked back at me and paused, looking slightly lost, "I… I… line…?"

"You can't call 'line' in an audition, Ms. Harrison," Mr. Samson interrupted, nose buried in the notebook he was writing in, "Thank you both. Have a good night everybody!"

* * *

><p>Dean slammed on the brakes of his precious '67 Chevy Impala, "You did what?"<p>

"I forgot my line! What was I supposed to do?" Castiel complained, "He was about to pack up, I know he had written something on my audition slip, and damn if Lucy Harrison wasn't getting on my nerves with that 'holier than thou' crap that she was throwing at me onstage. She almost tanked my audition."

"So?" Dean asked, waiting for Castiel to get to the point.

He sighed, "I panicked. I saw the opportunity, so I took it. I went as hard as I could and just hoped that he would like it." Castiel snickered in remembrance, "It didn't hurt that Lucy messed up at the end."

"Lucy messed up?" Dean grinned, "Lucy Harrison?"

Castiel smiled over at his best friend, "She even called 'line'."

Dean asked, "What's that?"

"It mainly happens during tech week, so it's no big deal," Castiel shrugged.

"And tech week is…"

Castiel lamented, "Well, for one it's the last possible moment for the cast to be off book."

Dean asked, "Call 'line', tech week, off book? Is this theatre geek speak?"

Castiel laughed, "Tech week is the week before the show. They bring in the orchestra, run the whole play with lights, and get the stage crew lined up. And, by tech week, we theatre geeks have to be off book."

"And 'off book' means…"

"The cast has to have the entire script memorized. No excuses." Castiel shrugged, "The directors become evil, the pressure runs high, and… well… the leads lose their minds trying to make every rehearsal look like opening night. And, fuck, if you're doing a musical? Every note counts. Even at eleven o'clock at night on a Tuesday with three tests and a paper due tomorrow. That is the glory of tech week. And you can never. Call. Line."

Dean raised his eyebrow and laughed, "What's so bad about 'calling line'."

"Well, actors should be off book two weeks before the play at the latest, and during the week before tech week, it's perfectly okay to call 'line'," Castiel explained, "So, when an actor stumbles on the lines and doesn't remember what comes next, he or she calls out the word 'line' to the stage manager."

"So, 'line' is some kind of safe word?"

Castiel scratched his chin, "In a way. It's like a safety net. Every time the actor falls, there's always the stage manager following along with the script to catch you and tell you what to say. Then, the play resumes as per usual. This usually happens during run throughs, when we put on the entire play over and over again until it's pristine."

"Pristine?"

Castiel laughed, "It's not a stage word; it's a real word. Read a book, Dean."

"Hey, Sammy," Dean called toward the backseat, "Theatre geek reads. I think you two might be friends."

"Don't call me 'Sammy'!" Sam mumbled from the backseat, yanking his headphones out of his ears, "Why would he want to be my friend… he's a Junior?"

Castiel looked back at Dean's little brother, who in turn was cramped into a crouching position in the back seat of his older brother's classic car, "I… I want to be your friend… if that's…o—okay?"

Sam's face lit up in a big grin and he looked more like a puppy than Dean's giant kid brother. His green eyes shone and his hair framed his face as he looked through his eyelashes at Castiel, "Really?"

"Yes," Castiel laughed, Sam's happiness catching like wildfire.

Dean snickered, "Well, I'll be damned. We're all one big happy family now, huh? The Winchester Brothers have a 'plus one'?"

Castiel replied with a content sigh, "Yeah, I… I guess they do."

* * *

><p>"Sam… Sam… oh, Sam…" Castiel moaned in a hushed tone, "Mmm… so good, Sam… ugh! Ooh, just like that… Sam… Sam. Sam, Sam, Sam—SAM! AH!"<p>

He breathed heavily, pulling his hand from his dying erection and flopping down onto his pillow, "Fuck. I'm hopeless." Ever since Sam had given him that smile in the Impala, Castiel had walked around giddy for the rest of the day. All he could think about was Sam's smile and how much he wanted to see it every day. It was so wide that it brightened up the outside. Sam was just so cute, so young, and so innocent that Castiel felt like such a perv around him. Sometimes, he wanted to rip off his basketball jersey and ride him on every single one of the locker room benches. Sometimes, he wanted to screw Sam on the couch while he watched the Thunders play hockey. Sometimes, he wanted to nail the Freshman on the kitchen table he eats to sloppily and tantalizingly on. And, he sadly admits to wanting to do Sam on his older brother's bed. But only once, just to see what it felt like to have his life in danger.

Castiel was hopeless in every sense of the word. Sam was a first year, tall and built like a senior. He could get any girl in the school, but his eyes screamed 'virgin'. His older brother is the most terrifying human in Lawrence, but for some strange reason, he seems harmless as a kitten. This boy confuses the living shit out of him, and Castiel loves it. Oh, how he wants those strong arms around him, those hands holding flowers after a performance, those bright pink lips brought to his. But Castiel is useless when it comes to life off of the stage. He stumbles. He fails. He messes up, and always ends up looking like an idiot. When he sees Sam, he wants to be this cool, suave guy that can woo him with the bat of an eyelash. But, Castiel is not that guy. Not in the slightest. He's quiet, nerdy, and stumbles over words like stepping stones. When Sam's around, all that comes out is, "I… uh… um—line!" Poor Cas. There's no stage master following him with a script when he leaves the auditorium. There are no lines written that he can memorize to guarantee him a happy ending with the most amazing boy he's ever met. He should know that by now.

* * *

><p>The words flow from Sam's fingertips like magic from a wand as he types away on his laptop. He's obsessed. He barely lets go of this thing. You see, there's a story he's been writing. A classic one, really. Kind of like a Fairy Tale. There's a handsome prince with an epic quest, the whole nine. But the twist is he's not doing it for the lovely blonde princess. No. The handsome prince is doing this all for a gentle knight whom he met on the way. The knight's got wide blue eyes, and tousled dark hair. His skin is pale and his lips pink. His scent is that of summer air and his stride is like that of a soldier with a mission. The knight is quiet and subtle, yet when he thinks no one's looking, he's as powerful and beautiful as a stallion. But the knight doesn't even know the handsome prince loves him. He never will. The knight is much too busy being powerful and beautiful, capturing the attention of people who forget his name after he slays a dragon or jousts a few rounds with other noblemen.<p>

Sam has named the knight Cameron. Cameron North. The prince's name? Sir Sable of Westmore. The two have been assigned to cross the treacherous Lake Eville to meet a witch with the potion to cure Sable's older brother Damon from the poor, unfortunate disease of idiocy. The two have received the potion and are on their way back to Westmore to give Sir Damon the antidote when Sir Sable stops to pitch a tent to keep them safe. Night was beginning to fall, and the two had tired from entering the forest, crossing the lake, gaining the potion, and crossing back. They were on dry land and all they had to do was rest for a few hours so they can begin again on their trek home. Cameron goes inside the tent and sits there, waiting for Sable. Bringing their packs in with them, Sable soon follows suit. He makes sure everything is tied together safely and finds himself looking at Castiel—backspace, backspace, backspace—Cameron who was running his pink tongue over his lower lip. Cameron asks him why he's looking so long and Sable replies, "Because you won't stop licking your lips." Cameron blushes and looks away, biting the lip that Sable so longs to kiss. Then Cameron looks back, crossing the tent with a sexy crawl, perching in front of Sable, "Make me." Sable's breath catches in his throat as Cameron runs a hand under Sable's shirt, touching the skin there with skilled, experienced hands. Sable replies, "What if I will?"

"Mmm…" Sam replies as he continues to write. Cameron… Cameron leans in closer, running his hands through Sable's hair, whispering softly, "Will you …boy?"

Sam ran his hand up his chest and through his hair. Cast—he means Cameron—was such a turn on. His deep voice, his powerful words, the way he looks on stage—he means on the jousting horse—is so sultry, so sexy, so… so… fucking hot. Sam touched his chest again, letting his hands fall due south, imagining it was Cameron. Oh, Cameron… oh, Cameron… _oh,_ Castiel! Fuck it! He won't lie to himself. He's writing about his brother's best friend and he can't stop. This story wasn't supposed to have a sex scene, but bear with him! He's in the moment. With Castiel's laugh and his eyes reflecting the sunlight in the passenger's seat—oh, it was torture to the young Winchester. Why can't he just take Sam's virginity already? It's right here for him on a silver platter, seasoned, sautéed and ready to go. Why won't the shy, kind, dreamy Castiel put him out of his misery at least!

His hands continued to travel and he cast his laptop aside as he panted in ecstasy at the thought of Castiel touching him like Cameron was going to touch Sable. Sam wanted it so much he could almost feel it, taste it, absorb himself in it and—

"Hey, Sam, there's a—" Dean walked in without a care in the world and then paused, catching his little brother with his hands down his pants for the third time this week, "I know your hormones are all over the place, but could you spend ten minutes without fingering yourself?"

Sam quickly pushed his blankets over his head, "Or, you could knock!"

"Nah," Dean replied with a shrug, "I find it more fun to catch you off guard."

"Leave," Sam ordered.

Dean replied, "Did you do your homework?"

Sam groaned, "Yes. Now leave."

"Where is it?" Dean smiled, glad for an excuse to stay and lengthen Sam's desperation as he sat on Sam's bed beside the large lump that was his little brother under a quilt.

"It's all on my laptop, now go!" Sam pleaded.

"Let me check it."

Sam quickly pushed the covers out of his face, long hair falling fuzzed and into his face, "No!"

Dean laughed, grabbing the open laptop, "What are you doing? Watching porn?"

"No! I'm not! Give it!" Sam reached for the laptop as Dean moved it out of the way.

Sam screeched, flailing his arms in a lousy attempt to catch his laptop. His older brother snickered, standing and running out of the room with it. Sam jumped out of bed, and pulled up his pants as he ran after his brother, "Dean! Give it back!" Dean glanced back at his brother and continued running down the hall soundlessly. The younger Winchester on hot pursuit raised Hades on Dean's path, promising Hell to pay if Dean didn't return his laptop. At least until Dean ran into the bathroom and locked the door.

Sam pounded on the door, "Come on, Dean, _please_! I'll give you anything!"

"No way!" Dean laughed, "Oh, man. What are you writing? Dude… is this a love story?"

Sam lied, "No! Of course not!"

"Oh, this is so a love story…" Dean mocked, "_Sir Sable couldn't stop staring at Cameron's large, turquoise eyes, filled with such wonder and knowledge. His livid red cheeks and his dark messy hair gave off the look of a newly awoken bridegroom, ready for another go on his wedding night_! Sammy, this is gold! Oh, my God!"

"Dean!" Sam pleaded, "Stop reading."

"_His large hands touched Sable with a rough, sexy caress as they traveled further down his youthful and innocent body, 'It's about time you became a man.'_" Dean laughed, "Oh, this is great! You've got to be kidding me! Ah ha ha!"

"Dean!"

The elder Winchester laughed with glee and then paused. Oh, God. Not the pause. He was making the connection. Sam was done for. He was sure he accidentally called "Cameron" Castiel at some point in the sex scene. That's what he gets for getting sucked in to the throes of passion while writing a girly story about his older brother's best friend. If and when Dean finds out that he wrote this entire schmoopy love story about him and Cas, he was sure to have earned himself a lifetime of jokes and mockery. As far as Sam was concerned, his life was already over.

Dean broke the silence, "Wait…is this blue eyed, black haired knight Cameron North supposed to be my blue eyed, black haired stage geek Castiel Novak?"

Sam's shoulders fell in regret as he replied sadly, "…yes."

"And this Sir Sable of Westmore is probably Sir Samuel of Winchester, am I right?" Dean guessed.

"Bingo," Sam sighed.

Dean growled, "So, I'm Sable's brother, all weak and unarmed; ailing of _idiocy_? Really?"

Sam shrugged, "I needed a comedic relief."

"You know what?" Dean opened the bathroom door and handed Sam his computer back, "I don't even want to know, nor do I care what you dream about when it comes to Cas. But please, for the love of God, don't make my character a wimp."

Sam paused, "You don't care that I just wrote the most homoerotic thing you'll ever read, starring me and your best friend since grammar school?"

"No, I do. But I happen to know more than you think I know. I run Gotham," Dean grinned, "I'm Batman."

* * *

><p>Dean had an unprecedented grin plastered on his face as he pulled up to the Novak house, Sam in tow. The elder Winchester rang the doorbell and the door opened before his finger could leave the button. Castiel flew out of the house, tossing his backpack over his shoulder and ran at top speed for the Impala. Laughing, Dean asked, "Where's the fire, bro?"<p>

Castiel jumped up and down at the door of the passenger's seat while the Winchesters made their way back to the car walking at an average pace, "The cast list, Dean! The. Cast. List!"

"Oh, shit. It's almost seven," Dean lamented, glancing at his wrist watch as he opened the driver's door, "Hey, maybe you'll get to be a rock this year."

Castiel slid into the seat through the window, tossing his back to the floor by his feet and locked eyes with his best friend, "I would cry."

Dean teased, "You probably would. Just let me get it on camera, alright?"

"This isn't a joke, Dean," Castiel said, gazing out of the window as the car revved up and started down the street, "This is my chance! If I get a lead role, I'll be a shoe in for the leads my senior year. Talk about a killer college resume! AI will want to see it; Julliard will want to see it! Oh, my God. What if Stanford sees it?"

"My God, have you been talking my ear off about Stanford," Dean smiled, "You know, Cas, Sammy wants to go to Stanford too. Dontcha, Sammy?"

"It's Sam," he growled, "And yes, I want to go. They have an amazing law program, and I can go to grad school there as well and save on tuition."

Dean replied with a chuckle, "And Cas will be there if it all pans out."

Sam paused, "…and Cas will be there."

"Hey, I just got the craziest idea," Dean lamented, "What if, when Sammy becomes a freshman there, you two could be roommates!"

Sam and Castiel shouted at the same time, "No!"

Dean raised his right palm from the steering wheel and apologized, "So sorry. Jeez. Calm your tits."

The Impala pulled up to the school's parking lot, and Dean smiled, "Alright, you little assholes. Have a decent day."

Castiel replied, "Aren't you going to class?"

"No, I'm skipping. There's a lovely lady I met a couple nights ago that doesn't know I'm not legal. Let's keep it that way," he drummed on the steering wheel and then turned to face Castiel, "Oh! And I'm going to need you to walk Sammy to first period."

Sam hissed, "I can walk myself to first period, Dean. I'm not twelve."

"Well, excuse me, fourteen-going-on-forty, I want to make sure my brother doesn't get mugged for his lunch money," Dean replied, "Now get out. Cas, you're walking Sammy. If he's late, it's your ass. And good luck on the cast list, alright, dude?"

Castiel nodded, "Alright."

"Good, now get out of my car. It smells like teen spirit in here," he joked.

As the two boys exited the car, they walked toward the building wordlessly. Sam put his hands in his pockets. Matching his pace, Castiel followed silently. He would have made conversation, he swears! But… he wouldn't know what to say. Throwing around weather topics was boring. Castiel didn't follow sports like Sam either, so that was out—oh, no! Castiel looked at his watch and shrieked, "The cast list!"

Castiel took off running and Sam followed, his long legs keeping up with the junior's quickened pace, "It's 7:02! There's going to be a crowd! What if I didn't get it? What if there's a big crowd, laughing at me and calling me… ensemble! Oh, I might as well, be an extra, I—"

"Cas!" Sam called, wrapping his hand around Castiel's arm to quell his emotions and most importantly stop his running, "Cas, calm down!"

The smaller boy took a deep breath and looked into Sam's green eyes in the busy hallway. There were dozens of students passing by the two of them as Sam held onto Castiel's smaller, much more fragile arm as if it were made of glass. Sam stepped closer and ran his hand along the side of Castiel's face, thumb stroking his stubbled cheek, "Your audition was great. You're going to get everything you want and more. You're an amazing actor, Castiel, and you shouldn't base your future on one tiny high school role."

Castiel looked up at Sam in awe, "I… well… with the… and I just… um—_line_!"

Sam raised an eyebrow, "Huh?"

"Uh…" Castiel lowered his head in shame. He did _not_ just do that. Oh, how he wished he could take it back…

Sam laughed and brought his hand to Castiel's hair, mussing it up with a sheepish grin, "Don't worry, it's fine. You're worried about the cast list, right?"

"Um… uh… y—yeah!" Castiel's voice cracked and he corrected himself, "Y… yes, Sam. Whew."

Sam asked, "Are you alright?"

Castiel was in no way, shape or form "alright". His heart was beating miles an hour, his palms were sweaty, his throat was dry, and for the love of God _he couldn't speak_. He wanted nothing more than to just sink into the floor and become an irrelevant piece of dust. Here he was making an ass of himself in front of Sam Winchester, an angel if there ever was one. And here was Sam Winchester, looking down at him as if he was waiting for something amazing to happen. Something that would never happen. Castiel didn't know what to say, but for some reason in this crowded hallway on a Thursday morning, he knew just what to do. He wrapped his arms behind Sam's neck and pulled his face down until their lips met in a kiss. It was soft, gentle, and full of words unscripted. What was said in their kiss never needed words. For once, he cared none about whose name was where on a cast list. All he wanted was for his name to be on Sam's mind, and right now, it was.

Sam's large hands raised to cup the back of the boy he had spent ages writing about. He was still partially in shock that his real life Cameron North, knight of Westmore had taken a leap of faith and joined their lips in their first kiss. It was more than he could have ever imagined. Maybe one day, Castiel will become his first boyfriend. Maybe one day, he could come out to his father with this boy by his side. And maybe, just maybe, he would show Castiel his schmoopy love story. Eh, maybe not.

* * *

><p><strong>If you give me a review, I'll give you a lifetime supply of smexy Sassy photos taken when Dean was asleep. Wall!sex included.<strong>

**BlueOllie**

**P.S. :)**


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